[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]cheeks bleed color beneath the question. it was inevitable for the concept to come up but... facing this with no experience really is nerve-wracking.

"yeah," she murmurs. a hand rises to awkwardly fiddle with pink ends. "that obvious?"

her eyes flit over to the door, to what awaits behind a white lit gate. and it's too late to turn back, right? she's here, she's been training since she left the hospital.

she can do this... can't she?

after what feels like too long, she tries to gather her wits and confidence with shaky hands.

"okay, ready." or, well, as ready as she'll ever be.

one step turns into two and she's shifting through the door frame...

Greyson Connors
non-traditional gym.

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]her smile grows a little wider as his yamper steps up and barks at her. it's not a cat but... it's still a cutie.

and it takes a moment for her to tug a pokeball loose from her belt, her injured shoulder still feeling weird to move. she manages with the good arm, cheeks flushed a soft pink with embarrassment. a flash later and her charizard appears with a yawn and a grumble. an ember escapes its mouth and drops unceremoniously to the floor. she ignores the way it sizzles into a small charred mark.

right... the painkillers. she can't even remember how long it's been since she took them last. long enough for her to be dull, lesser. she's muted, placated into a sense of comfort.

"will do," she murmurs with a nod. she should be fine until after the match. besides, she actually drank water today. the strict no alcohol rule puts a bit of a damper on things but she's surviving as she always does. and as her good arm plants a hand on her hip, she looks to callan almost expectantly.

"you want the first move?"

Callan Young

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she arrives in petalburg woods well prepared. and by well prepared... i mean equipped with nothing more than a jar of honey she stole and heart shaped sunglasses.

this should be simple enough anyway, right? she doesn't need much more.

her eyes drift to steal a glance at the rocket she managed to convince to tag along. the girl looks nice, competent. she earns bonus points for being down to clown and steal some pokemon out of the woods.

"do you know how to do this?" her head tilts with the question, sunglasses sliding down slightly on the bridge of her nose to reveal a curious look. "do we just... slap this shit on a tree and wait?"

is that how it works?

Violet Fairbanks
mission

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she stirs with a groan, consciousness slowly seeping back into the body. and when the lights finally flicker on in her mind, she's fully waking with a gasp.

she... doesn't quite remember where she is.

there's a hazy memory. some pieces are blurry and others are blank spaces begging for writing to fill in the emptiness. and she blinks first, the last of her sleep fluttering away.

when she goes to move, however... she finds it a little difficult. her legs are fine, completely mobile. her wrists? absolutely not. she tugs softly as if she's simply tangled up in sheets. and when a soft metallic clink follows, she scowls.

"fuck."

his voice rises and her eyes dart over to find him dressed and staring down at her.

"the hell is this?" she wiggles her wrists for emphasis.

caden maher

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]this is new.

she's put a focus on pushing herself lately. strive to be a better person, strive to be stronger. it's... hard. definitely a lot harder than she thought it'd be but she needs this. besides, with her shoulder only halfway healed after that stupid fucking bullet, she has to occupy her time somehow.

and what's a better way to pass the time than trying to kick someone's ass?

she's half present by the time her name is called over the loudspeaker, attention span drifting between battles and thoughts and-- oh, right, she has to go.

her partner takes his place in the center and she mirrors him a moment later. her head bobs in acknowledgement, a small smile rising. "yep, that's me." does she wave? is that weird? she does it anyway with her good arm, the movement looking a little awkward.

"ready when you are!"

Callan Young

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]an auditory learner... she could work with that.

a hazy smile begins to root itself into her expression. it grows, festers, as fingers dance up sides. and she leans a little closer... only to begin to slump.

hypnosis hits her like a fucking train.

it eases eyes closed, lashes fluttering shut as a soft groan escapes. her mind slips away quickly and sleep overpowers any willpower to stay awake. and it's akin to clockwork, the way her body sways and falls forward...

caden maher

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]it's odd... she typically doesn't get nerves. and yet, they creep beneath her skin in little bursts. it makes her fidgety, nauseous, and overall a clusterfuck. part of her wants nothing more than to turn around and say nevermind, false alarm.

and majority of her needs to do this.

the incessant urge to be more than a body, more than curves and red latex and pretty smiles... it doesn't go away. it festers, swells, grows with one foot in front of the other. little steps become bigger until they're leaps and bounds. and by then, maybe she'll feel better in her skin.

for now, she starts with a gym challenge. her first, actually.

there's always something about a first, too. they... hold a special meaning, stand out more among the rest. and what better way to do more, be more, earn more than saving a fake city from destruction? a way to prove herself hangs tangled up in her morals and concepts. it taunts her with a soft you can't do this. it screams doubt into her bones with a grating you'll never be good.

and as she approaches, the mental pep talk starts to slowly overwrite seeds of fear.

by the time she announces herself, a small smile has even begun to bloom. "hi! giada morgan, ready to challenge."

Greyson Connors
non-traditional gym.

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]maybe one day, she’ll understand. and maybe it’ll elude her forever.

it’s hard to tell what’ll happen, even after he presses a kiss to her cheek, even after he softens.

she drifts back to the sky, to fireworks and somewhere else. it’s nice in the moment…

and so sad when it crumbles to the bitter end.

CIAN MAHER
mission

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]he settles beside her and it’s the beginning of the downfall.

her shoulders tremble, pain rippling through torn open nerves. and she whimpers, curling into herself beneath his hold.

she falls asleep shortly after, cheeks damp and expression surprisingly… peaceful.

CIAN MAHER
mission

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she stares, even as his eyes close, even as he tries to find his zen.

and the question itself... it baffles her. she wouldn't classify anything she does as dating. sure, she picks favorites and there's one in particular but... that's different, isn't it?

"not really," is what she offers. it's half committal, perhaps.

she deflects in the end, sinking claws and teeth into another question that dances at the edges of her mind.

"why would it matter if i was?" to you settles somewhere in the steam around them, left to die out.

4|40XagZ
Sénon Game
heat points | 582/1000